On my way home
by Avenger 22
Summary: So here's my crappy response to the Misgiving Writer's contest, Illness of the Mind. Natasha Romanov, a.k.a., the Black Widow, has Imsomnia and she doesn't know why. However, she does know that it has something to do with Clint. Read and review please!


On my way home

"_Natasha, we're here," Came a familiar masculine voice. The said hero slowly opened her eyes and yawned. Looking around she noticed Clint with her inside a very large limo. The heater worked over time to try to heat the Russian and her blond husband. Who was looking quite sexy this evening. He wore a purple shirt with a black jacket over top, slacks, and dress shoes," I meant to wake you earlier sweetheart but you looked so cute."_

_A question occurred into her thoughts. Forgetting not everything needed to be vocalized she did so with this thought," Sweetheart?" What was going on? She couldn't tell. Everything was happening too fast._

_He glanced at her as if she were crazy then shook his head. Bringing her hand to his lips he kissed it and rubbed it against his cheek," I thought that's what people called each when they were married?"_

_**Married? **__She thought and looked down at her ring finger on her left hand. Sure enough, it was there. She practically soiled herself but thought better of it._

_She looked up at his face and smiled. Without his mask, she barely recognized him. However, she liked him better without it. Combing through his hair a smiled played across her face. She pecked him lightly on the cheek and he hugged her closer to his body._

_A moan escaped her lips as the driver stopped. Turning to face the couple Natasha took in the details of her. The woman was Hispanic looking and had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. She seemed vaguely familiar, but for some reason Natasha couldn't place her face. It didn't matter. At least not, right now._

_Her smile almost seemed plastered on, as if she looked unhappy. Natasha over looked it," We're here Mr. and Mrs. Barton. Please exit to the right. The Avengers are waiting for you."_

_Before either could speak a word, the woman zoomed outside and opened their door. She flashed a flirtious smile at Clint as he stepped out. When he went to help Natasha, the smile vanished and she went back into the limo._

_Well here we are," He whispered as the limo drove away. Holding her hands tightly as they walked, Natasha instantly grew nervous. A crowd of photographers and reporters swarmed them with cameras and questions. She ignored them all and paid attention only to Clint," Just try not to make any trouble alright?"_

_She nodded, not taking her eyes off the enormous building that was directly in front of her. Composed completely of marble, she stared in awe. The structure itself replicated Zeus' Temple from the movie Hercules. With the exception, that this looked a thousand times better._

_She continued to stare at it as Clint led her towards it. Shivers went down her spine as the reporters and news crew continued to snap pictures of the couple. She was tempted to strike a pose but didn't push her luck._

_When the couple reached the entrance, another Hispanic woman opened the door for them. She too had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. She too looked familiar and again Natasha couldn't place her. She found this to be annoying. However, she wasn't going to let it bother her. At least tonight._

_The woman smiled and ushered them in," Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Barton," she greeted with a bow. Her magenta dress didn't conceal much, especially near her skirt," The others are waiting for you inside."_

_Just they headed inside Natasha woke up._

Perspiration broke out on her forehead as she jolted out of bed. She let out a sigh. Looking around her cabin she almost hyperventilated. Nothing and nobody were there, thank goodness. The Russian got out of bed, feeling a little breezy in just a tank top and sweatpants, and grabbed some coffee.

The nightmares had been coming on for a couple of months now. Which was how long it had been since she'd seen Hawkeye. Rubbing her temple, she looked out through the one window in her cabin. She remembered when she had first set foot here; the woman who had given her this cabin had wanted her to have at least one window. Now she was grateful for it. For that one place to look out into the real world and know that, she wasn't being hunted.

Ever since Nick Fury had left S.H.I.E.L.D Maria Hill had taken over. In addition, since she didn't know that Natasha had been working under cover for the Nazi science division she had been considered a traitor. Which was why Natasha had to race across the globe faster than the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents could find her. This was why she was here.

She thought back to when she had left Clint, her true love. Her real, true love. The one person that she felt she could trust. The one person who understood her. Who knew her. Right now, she wasn't so sure of the latter. Ever since she had left Clint, she had discovered, more through the news than anything else that he had dated, broken up, and gotten married. All in the course of a couple months.

Her heart ached every time she thought about him. Every time she pictured his boyish attitude. His boyish blond hair and blue eyes. Sometimes she hurt so bad she felt she could barely breathe. However, the villagers of this small little town had given her work. Which very seldom took her mind off him.

She shuddered at the thought of his face. His memory. The hurt he had left behind when he had decided not to go with her. She could still hear the sound of his word ringing in her head just as clearly as when he first said them.

After several months of hurting, Natasha wondered why she still hurt. They had decided to go their separate ways and that was fine. However, deep inside her there was still a twinge of guilt. Like something, she felt she hadn't done.

Everyday as she worked, she tried to think of what she hadn't done with Hawkeye. And everyday she came up with nothing. Some days, she was just ready to give up. Some days she was just ready to throw in the towel. But she knew that she couldn't and wouldn't for as long as she lived.

Peeking through the window behind her bed, she noticed that it was breaking dawn now. The gray of morning had arrived and Natasha knew it was time for her day to start. Finishing off her coffee she put on her work clothes, which consisted of black sweats and a flannel shirt.

Going through her checklist one more time before going to work, she went off her checklist of things she felt she hadn't done in a while. Or at least since seeing Clint. Slipping on her boots, she thought she was done when she finally thought through something she hadn't thought of before now.

She hadn't said good-bye. She remembered kissing him, holding him. She remembered how good it felt to be close to him, and then how awful it felt when she left.

Before she had time to finish her thought, her door burst open, and several children rushed in. All were wearing outfits like her, and all were used to seeing her.

Ever since she had come here a couple months ago, the people of River Wood (1) had insisted that she take it. Until you get your strength back, they had said. Or, as she had heard, one person say, until she vacated it.

The cabin had apparently been a guesthouse that at one time had been used. The people said that it had been vacated for a long time, and that it was okay that she used it.

The children all gathered around her, asking her questions and jumping around her. Her thoughts wandered to Clint and she decided to get a plane ticket as soon as she could find one.

Several miles away, in New York City, lights were on in the Avengers mansion. Arrows _thwacking_ random targets could be heard from a room. The person doing it was blond and wore only purple sweatpants. With a quiver on his back and a bow in hand.

Sweat trickled down his brow as Clint focused on the targets. He jumped over to the next target, with barely enough room to leap away from a nearby explosion. His fighting had been getting sloppy lately, and he wanted to fix that.

Floating upside down in the air, he took an arrow from his quiver. Making sure it hit the target just right. When he finally landed back on the ground he watched, it hit the center with a _thong._

Gritting his teeth and feeling dissatisfied, he took out another. Suddenly, Jarvis' voice rang out in the middle of his practicing. He had hoped against hope that nobody would bother him. At least, not here. Especially now that everyone was getting ready for the Holidays.

_Excuse me sir but you have a visitor_

Clint paused for a moment, looking for a way to respond. He stood as still as a stone and noticed that the room was relatively cool when he wasn't moving. He wiped sweat from his forehead and made his way to the armory. Thinking about all the possible people who would want to bother him now.

Stark? Most definitely not. He was attending a business meeting in Washington D.C. and wouldn't be back until sometime near Christmas. He checked the billionaire off his list.

He crossed out Jan and Hank. The couple was also at some important business meeting. Again, wouldn't be back until much later. Clint didn't remember when. It didn't take much for him to forget what the others did. Personally, he didn't really care.

The other teammates were also attending to their own affairs. Which was fine with him. Who needed them anyways? It wasn't as if he wanted them around right now. He felt the smothering warmth of the men's bathroom leave its mark on his skin.

As he headed for the nice, icy shower awaiting him, he heard Jarvis' voice again. He wished the robot or whatever it was would just stop bugging him. He would get to this person when he was ready. Whoever they were.

_Perhaps you did not hear me. I said that a woman is waiting for you outside._

_That really narrowed it down, _He thought to himself. He quickly turned off the water, letting some slip and slide off his skin. Putting on a towel, he padded his way to his bedroom. As he got dressed, he tried to think of a response so that Jarvis wouldn't continually annoy him.

"I'll be there in a minute," he called, pulling on his costume. His mask, as usual, was the last to go on. Hiding his blond hair from whatever kind of woman would want to see him. And, as he figured it, there were only two women who would want to see him right now.

The first woman whom he could think would want to see him would be his ex-girlfriend Bobbi Morse. He recalled the last time he had seen her, which was at his wedding. He winced at the memory, and stuffed it deep into his brain. The only reason he could think that she would want to talk to him was to either curse him out or discuss to him about why they broke up. However, he figured that was the least likely thing he would expect. Especially from her.

_Very good, sir. I will notify her right away._

Finally, Jarvis answered. He let out a long sigh as he made his way to the door. His heart pounded louder and harder than ever as he went to try to be a polite person to whatever chic waited for him beyond the threshold.

The second woman on his mind was Natasha Romanov. Some one he had given hope a long time ago. Some one that he had shared his first kiss with. Someone that he had been partners with. Some one he had once come to love. He remembered the last time they had met was when they had defeated Hydra. When he tried to persuade her to stay, she had said she couldn't. That she was looking for Fury. So why would she be here? Or want to see him for that matter?

When he opened the door, he couldn't believe what he found. New sweat trickled down his face as he stood there watching the said woman, staring back at him. Her red hair was just as fiery as before. Her sharp blue eyes weren't as sharp as they once had been. Now, they almost looked tired and worn. On a side note, it also looked like she hadn't slept in a while.

Clint cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. He was tempted to reach for an arrow but there was none. He mentally kicked himself for not grabbing them from the armory. Now wasn't the time to be complaining so he went onward instead.

"What are you doing here Natasha?" the question came out before he could control it, like an arrow from his quiver. The question itself was a serious one, since S.H.I.E.L.D was still on the look out for her. Some weeks, they even put up signs. It was truly embarrassing.

She let out an exasperated sigh. Now is when he noticed that she was carrying duffel bags," Well I haven't been caught by S.H.I.E.L.D yet," her gaze wandered around, almost as if she were guilty or something. Or hiding something. Clint didn't press," So I guess that's good."

Feeling like a total idiot, he opened the door. Physically feeling winter's hand reaching out towards him and dancing on his skin, he shivered. Goose bumps appeared on his arms. His eyebrow twitched," Would you like to come in?"

She nodded and as she stepped into the threshold, he took her bags. He also now noticed that she was wearing a black parka. Wondering how she had the money and shaking his head he closed the door," Follow me."

He knew it was a dumb and obvious thing to say, but he had to say something. Natasha nodded again and followed him. He watched as her gaze wandered, taking in the awed sights of the mansion. He smiled to himself.

"The mansion's all ours," he announced breaking the silence again as they entered the wing where the bedrooms were. Watching her take in the details of it, his attention went to her," Nobody's home and won't be for a couple weeks. Feel free to trash the place."

Trying to create conversation in the awkward atmosphere Natasha spoke her first words since entering the mansion," So how's it going with the villains? Any luck tracking down the rest of the escapes?" the conversation was slowly turning awkward and he was thankful when he finally decided on a room. It was the one farthest down the hall, and would give her some privacy. Even if she was only visiting.

"Dinner's at six," setting her bags down almost felt like setting down two ton weights. Rubbing his arms, he walked away, feeling like he had forgotten something. He then turned around as he watched her open the door," If you need anything there's a chef on call plus room service," And with that he was gone. Turning around, he left her to her devices.

For a while after that, all Natasha could do was look around. Now she understood why Clint had offered her all this. Part of her couldn't believe that she had declined this. However, the more reasonable part of her answered why she did.

Before she had finished touring, she heard a knock on the door. Out of pure instinct, she grabbed her things and headed to her room. She hoped it wasn't Hill.

After he had showed Natasha to her room, he decided that he was going to watch some TV. Just to get his mind off things. He figured that later he would call a chef. Later meaning, when he was done watching the Dresden Files. Which he hoped wouldn't be any time soon.

Just then, a knock came to the door. He let out a sigh as he went to answer it, wondering who it could be. He noticed there was a certain tension in the air, and felt a prick of suspicion. He kept it for a moment as Maria Hill entered the mansion. More like welcomed herself.

_What's this bitch doing here? _He thought worriedly looking towards Natasha's room. He hoped that he hadn't given Natasha away_, hasn't she already caused enough frickin' trouble?_

"Director Hill," he finally spoke closing the door behind her. Even as he did, he almost felt a cold front come on. Shivering slightly he edged forward," What a surprise. What can I do for you?"

Her retort was simple. It almost looked like she was scanning the mansion. Because she probably was," Actually I was wondering if Tony Stark was here. I need to speak with him. Do you know where he might be?"

Her doll like face amused Clint with its numerous expressions. Hiding a snicker, he answered her question as honestly as he could. He figured she would probably blow her top at them, but he told her anyway," Actually he's away on a business trip in D.C. Won't be back until sometime around Christmas."

Setting her jaw, she nodded grimly. The scuff of boots could be heard from the back hallway and Clint turned his head for a moment. Seeing nothing in his line of vision his focus returned to Hill. Frustration coated her tone," Thank you."

Before she could leave, Hawkeye stepped between her and the doorway. Her expression was one of confusion and Clint could see why. However, he wanted to know why she had been asking for Stark, let alone showing up here in the first place," What do you need to talk to Stark about?"

His gaze met hers and for a steady moment, there was silence. Finally, Hill let out a sigh. More frustration only this time the coating seemed darker than before. Almost like a heavy glaze," That's classified."

Clint couldn't help but allow laughter to escape his lips. When he finally had himself under control he clear his throat, trying to make himself look more professional," Hill I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Not only that, Stark also told me that he doesn't want to be called unless there's an emergency," he waited for a reaction, but still nothing. He went onward," So unless this classified thing is really as classified as you say-" He left her with that. He figured she could connect the dots.

He watched her face as her expression turned from confused to thinking. It almost seemed like she was contemplating something. As if this were the biggest life decision that she were making. Silence ensued for what seemed like an eternity and when she finally answered it was exactly as he had expected it to be," As you know, S.H.I.E.L.D has been tracking the Black Widow ever since the fight between Hydra and A.I.M. We still haven't found her yet and we think she may be close to this location if not this location," she looked up at him as if she were tempting him to do something. Which she was," You should know that the assistance of a S.H.I.E.L.D fugitive is going to get you into serious trouble."

_That dirty little bitch, _He thought on the inside while on the outside he smiled and nodded. Pretending to understand her motives for doing this. Which he didn't. _What in the hell does she think I am? Stupid?_

He shook his head and noticed that she had been watching him. Watching his expression to see if he would give Natasha away. He knew he wouldn't but that was the way she played. However, he figured he hadn't because she left without another word.

Natasha ran back to her room and slammed the door shut. She had heard enough for one day. She had hoped it wouldn't come to this. She had also hoped that Clint would've covered better than he did. However, he had done well for himself.

Letting out a sigh of relief Natasha went back to her mahogany desk in the corner. Her laptop sat on the top and she began typing. Typing to find out more information about Fury, and his little team of agents.

Ever since she had become a fugitive, Natasha had a lot of time on her hands. Therefore, she had done a little research into why Fury went missing. So far, she had discovered a lot. A list was posted to the back of her monitor, which she flipped down. She read the list in her head, ticking off all the details as she went. All explained why Fury had left.

**Left S.H.I.E.L.D to stop Skrulls(for reasons unknown to even them)**

**Has a special team with him to stop the Skrulls**

**In addition, 3, the Skrulls are impersonating people (heroes, S.H.I.E.L.D agents, villains, etc.)**

She set up her monitor again and continued typing. For what felt like days, the only sound that could be heard in Natasha's room was the sound of her fingers on the keyboard. Finally, she heard a knocking sound on her door. She had almost forgotten that she wasn't alone in the mansion. _Knock, knock, and knock._

_Probably Hill to come take me away, _Natasha thought as she continued to type on her laptop. She had come to love it, especially considering the fact that her friend had bought it for her. She had used it a ton since, and had practically not slept. But she knew that it wasn't' the case. She was just telling herself that so she wouldn't have to listen to her thoughts about the blond archer, whom she frequently dreamt about.

_Whatever she wants, I won't give it to her, _Her thoughts continued as she closed the laptop, _unless she just wants a good kick in the balls._

"Hey," she greeted Hawkeye upon greeting him in the doorway. Something was off about him. She could smell it. The scent of guilt hung in the air like a wet tissue. Grody," So who was that?"

Clint figured she knew. He figured that, past her innocent disguise, she knew exactly who had been at the door. So he decided to play dumb too. Only he would win," Hill. I sent her away though."

He saw a glimmer of hope spread across her face. Then die as soon as it spread.

_Damn she's stubborn, _He thought when he left, _why wouldn't she let me in? We're both suffering the same fate. I'm only trying to help._

"Dinner's ready," he blurted trying to fill the awkward silence between them. Hoping he hadn't sounded rude he put in the last part, just for good measure," Whenever you are of course. See you there?"

He waited for a moment for her response. She seemed poised as if she were ready to strike. He didn't press and wasn't going to anytime soon. She would tell him what was bothering him when she felt like it, not before," See you there." Her response was simple.

Clint nodded and went back down the hall. As soon as he was out of sigh, Natasha let out a sigh of relief. She closed the door silently and went back to her computer. She began typing once again and felt a pang of regret. She hadn't purposely shut Hawkeye out. It was just that he didn't understand. He didn't understand what she was going through. And if he did, well Natasha wouldn't know what to do with herself.

These thoughts circled her mind as she continued typing. She cursed herself for not speaking with him longer. She especially cursed herself for not letting him in. That, she told herself, was what had hurt the most.

For five whole minutes, the Foyer was silent. Even more so than usual. He had tried to make noise by finishing the Dresden File. When that was over, he didn't feel like doing anything else except for sitting and listening. That was all he really could do now. Sit and listen.

Once in the past few minutes he had called his wife to see how she was doing. The conversation hadn't been very long, since he didn't want to waste her time with needless conversation when she could be visiting the sights around her. Since she was, after all, on a mission in the United Kingdom.

Even talking with her hadn't helped, even in the slightest. Somehow, some way, he felt empty inside. And he knew it had something to do with Natasha. But he didn't want to deal with it right now. He didn't want to think. All he wanted to do was feel. He also knew that he didn't know how to do that. At least, not yet.

He was thankful when Jarvis' voice entered the room once again. Interrupting his thoughts so that he didn't have to think of the pain he had caused Natasha. The pain he had caused himself. Thanks to his own stupid actions. Stupid thoughts. Stupid words.

_Dinner is ready, sir_

He let out a sigh as he picked himself up from the love seat. He tried not to think about the color of the seat as he made his way to the dinning room. He hoped against hope that Natasha would come. Easier said than done," We'll be there in a minute Jarvis. Thanks." He figured he owed Jarvis something, if you could call it that.

_Very good, sir. Is there anything else you would have me do?_

There was, but Clint wouldn't say so. As he reached the dinning room, he noticed the light flick on," Nope." With that, he swung the door open.

His jaw gaped open at the vision he saw. It was Natasha, but it also wasn't Natasha. There was something different about her. Something a little more, classy. She wasn't just the Black Widow anymore. She truly was Natasha Romanov.

Her lithe figure wasn't rapped in her usual, black costume anymore. Instead, it was covered with a spaghetti strapped black dress. The straps themselves were twisted. The skirt of the dress was quite long and the heels were no exception.

He gazed into her eyes, which weren't as tired or hurt. At least, not anymore. Instead, her eyes sparkled with the playfulness of the old Natasha. Not just the regular Natasha but his Natasha. The one he had spent so much time with. The one that, before right now, had been the one for him.

He gulped down a gargantuan lump in his throat as he gestured towards dinner," Shall we?" feeling sheepish for even asking, they sat down.

At first, silence filled the room. Just as Clint was about to open his mouth to speak, the lights turned off. The air suddenly grew quite cooler and Clint noticed Natasha shiver. He thought of something to cover her.

Finally, she spoke with a microscopic portion of the old Natasha's voice," Dinner's good." It wasn't enough. Something had to give. Whether it was his guard, her guard or something else he couldn't quite place.

He noticed her glance up at him. Clearing his throat, he answered her, trying to be as honest as he could. For some reason, this wasn't hard," Actually for left over turkey it's reasonably good. Normally the turkey is made differently than his."

She glanced up at him again. Silence ensued throughout the meal. The only real sounds were the clanging of silver ware and the occasional refilling of the glasses. Both wanted to speak but didn't know what to say. Both wanted to forgive, but didn't know where to start. How could they? They were still in the healing process.

Silence was never good. Clint had learned this from experience. He wanted to say something but held his tongue. He wanted Natasha to be the one to speak first, not him. He waited for what seemed like a millennia until she spoke. Her Russian accent now obvious in her voice. Just like the night, she had betrayed him to S.H.I.E.L.D.

"I think I'm done," she stated plain and simple. The door was still cracked open. Wide enough that Clint had already put his foot in between it and her. He was almost there. Now he just needed to step through the threshold, which was what he'd do some other time. Or whenever they had time," Dinner was delicious."

And with that, she left the room without another word. Just as she did, the lights flicked back on. Clint almost thought that somebody else had entered the mansion but no such luck occurred. He sat to get up and thought better of it when he thought of her. How her hips swayed when she walked. How her lips moved when she talked.

All that ran through his mind as he ordered Jarvis to take care of the food. He didn't feel like cleaning, at least not tonight. Tonight, he decided he would get some more training in. Right now, felt perfect.

That night, Natasha couldn't sleep. She didn't understand. She had taken the necessary precautions. She had gone to Clint, let him in on some of her hurt, and allowed him part way in. So why did she still feel this way? It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair for her to rely on Clint to help her with her problems.

Something was up. She could hear it. Deciding that she wasn't going to get an ounce of sleep that night, Natasha went to investigate the scene.

Slipping on her costume, she thought about all the possible things it could be.

_Thwack. Thwack. More thwacking._

Another arrow was shot to the left. Clint focused all his attention, or at least as much as he could, on the targets that lay ahead of him. He figured he should get some more practice before he went to bed.

Plus, Natasha had interrupted him the first time. He figured it only fair that he get some more practice time. Except this time, he was wearing his costume. He found it better than purple sweatpants, just in case some idiot villain decided to show their butt ugly face.

A little ways away from the gym, Natasha was wondering around the halls. When she found the originator of the thwacking sound, she waited near the gym. Listening to the sound of Hawkeye grunt like he was in serious pain, she stayed and listened for a moment. Grinning to herself, she decided to peek.

Looking through the narrowly closed doors, she watched. As Clint hit another target with one of his arrows, she glanced at the targets ahead of him. So far, he didn't look so great. In almost every one, he had either been sloppy or just plain off center.

"If you're so good then why don't you do it?" He asked and Natasha practically jumped. She glanced at Clint, who was about to draw an arrow. Then he glanced at her," Or are you just too chicken?"

Natasha rolled her eyes and stepped into the gym. At first entrance, she shivered. However, as she got used to the temperature she didn't shiver quite as much.

Meeting him in the center of the room, she took the bow and arrow. Copying his position, she felt a twang of déjà vu.

_Sir there appears to be trouble_

He didn't need to know where. He just needed to know who," Who is it this time?" it wasn't that he was complaining. In fact, it was the exact opposite. He needed this. Needed this to find something to concentrate on. When the machine answered, it gave him direct answers. About everything.

_It appears Taskmaster is forcing his way into the mansion as we speak. He wishes to challenge you._

_Sweetness! Something to get his mind off of __**her. **_He attempted to hide his feelings from the A.I. As if that weren't elementary (1) enough. He was just a computer. What would he know about emotions? Anyway, it didn't matter. He had a Taskmaster to fight, whoever he was.

"I'll be there in a minute Jarvis," he called, making his way down the hall to the armory with Natasha on his heels. He glanced behind him and said nothing as they made their way to the opposing villain," And make sure to tell him I'm ready to kick his sorry ass!"

By that time, Clint had almost reached the front door he noticed a figure standing in the Foyer. Suddenly, his body tensed. He stopped for a moment and took in the figure's physique. The figure itself was quite lean and fairly muscular looking. At first, he thought it was Cap, but had second thoughts.

For starters, Cap didn't carry around a sword. And for another, Cap didn't look quite as skinny. He now remembered what Jarvis had told him. Taskmaster. He took out his bow from his quiver and Taskmaster laughed.

"Do you really think that toy of yours can hurt me?" He asked with a stunningly conceited tone. He figured the man was just naturally conceited, being a villain and all. However, the villain proved him so wrong.

Once he had finally took an arrow out of his quiver, Taskmaster was already coming at him with his sword. Feeling a brush of wind every time Taskmaster slashed at him made him sweat. He dodged them, no matter how little space he had between the blade and himself.

Using his bow to deliver a blow of his own, he watched the other man slide only slightly towards the Foyer. _How's that for a jackass? _He thought cockily and just as he was about to deliver another blow, Natasha extended both arms and shot her stingers at him.

He glanced behind him, but only for a second when Taskmaster appeared behind him and tackled him to the ground. Clint punched him square in the face and the villain only laughed. Trying to get him off, Clint hit him with his bow again, this time landing him on the ground.

Natasha then came in as he was about to get up and kicked him in the groin. He laughed again, this time more maniacal than the first. However, as both heroes went after him again a smoke screen appeared where he had once stood.

A voice could be heard in the distance, but Clint didn't known where," Who's your friend archer? I didn't know you played with Russians." And with that, the voice was gone.

The two searched the spot where the villain had once been. However, he was nowhere to be seen. They turned to each other in desperation.

"Search the mansion," He instructed, trying to sound leaderly as much as he could. With an arrow already out of its quiver and bow at the read," Punch anything you think looks suspicious. I'll search high you search low."

Natasha's eyebrows went up at that order. Hands on her hips she watched as Clint walked away," So what do we do when we find him?" she asked, always the question asker.

He sighed and turned around. They were wasting time. They needed to find Taskmaster," Just find a way to call me. Don't care how it is."

And with that, he was gone. Natasha sighed and went to look for the villain. Unbeknownst to her, he was right behind her. Following her.

As Clint searched the mansion, he was beginning to think this was hopeless. Searching for this villain and having absolutely no clue as to where he was. Hating himself for separating from Natasha, he tried not to think of his favorite red headed Russian.

Just then, he thought he heard footsteps behind him. Drawing out his bow and an arrow, he pointed it in the direction in which he heard the steps. He waited, waving around the bow.

"Hello? Natasha? Are you there?" He asked to no one in particular. Still waving around his bow, he waited and almost choked on air when Taskmaster appeared in front of him. And it looked like he was carrying something.

Concentrating, Clint looked down at the object. It was Natasha. He almost gasped but thought better of it and held up his bow and arrow. The heinous villain laughed again as he set Natasha gently down on the ground.

Gritting his teeth, he attempted to listen to what the douche bag had to say. Whatever it was, he knew it wasn't good," Ah so I see I have finally found you. You were the most difficult to find," he glanced down at Natasha, as if she were some prize he had done. Which was probably what he was thinking," Although I must admit your friend was interesting. She definitely gave me some trouble. Of course, I followed her from the start so it wasn't hard for me to defeat her."

Just then, Natasha's eyes opened. She picked herself up and swung at Taskmaster's face with her fist. For good measure, she dealt him a side ways kick in the face. When she moved towards Clint, he noticed Taskmaster bent down and wipe his chin.

Sticky, red liquid came from his mouth. Clint could tell because the fog was clearing. Which was good. He would need to be able to see if he was going to shoot this guy to smithereens. However, just as he was about to shoot, Taskmaster ran.

He felt dumb just watching him. He awoke from his dazedness when Natasha slapped him across the face. Rubbing his cheek, he turned to her," What in the hell was that for? I wasn't going to shoot him yet."

"Why not? You had a perfect shot and you blew it." Shaking her head, she sighed.

Clint decided to take matters into his own hands. Just then, a jolt went through is body and he put his arrow away. With his bow at his side he gripped it tightly," Doesn't matter. Right now, we have to catch him. Why don't we split up again?"

"No!" she exclaimed and he turned to her with eyebrows raised. He waited for a response," I want to stay with you," She claimed which was fine with him. What he wasn't fine with was when the smoke cleared and she said something he didn't really want to hear. But he knew needed to be done anyway," We need to talk."

He was about to retort kind of snottily and nastily, instead he let in," Fine. What do you want to talk about? There isn't much." He heard her scoff. That was the most gargantuan understand statement of the year. They both knew it.

As they made their way upstairs, their conversation continued. Although a bit rocky at first they managed to get some feelings out in the open.

As he kicked a door open they looked inside the room. Nothing here. At least nothing, they were looking for. Natasha closed the door and began the conversation.

She suddenly, for no reason of her own, grew very furious with him. She didn't exactly have an explanation for it but somewhere deep down it just felt right. She closed the door to what looked like Clint's room. She didn't question," You know exactly what we need to talk about Hawkeye! Don't go there with me!" she shouted, making herself wince as Hawkeye turned to face her.

"I don't understand why you're so upset at me," he shouted back with his anger rising as well. He didn't like it when they fought. Not like this," I'm trying to help you. To help us. I don't like feeling this way. Especially towards you."

Kicking open another door, this time with movement. It was minimal and Natasha shot. For several moments, her shots rang through the room, as Taskmaster kept moving. Quickly and silently, he deflected them with his sword.

Until one time, they hit. Clint stopped her just as she was about to shoot again. They waited for a confirmation, which didn't take long. The mark hit and more movement confirmed Taskmaster was there. He clutched one of his arms where he had been shot.

The missile hit just by a hair. Before the heroes could get to him, Taskmaster limped towards the window and jumped out. Clint cursed under his breath and ran to the window. Before he could get a good shot, Natasha lowered his arm.

"Don't," she encouraged with a soft voice. Darkness was shoved in their face from the outside as they listened to Taskmaster's trucker language," You can always call S.H.I.E.L.D."

He glanced at her and smiled. He saw her. He saw the old Natasha. The one he had fallen in love with. He closed the window behind him, which was now leaving a small winter breeze behind him. The chill almost shook his bones.

What followed next was probably the best conversation he had with S.H.I.E.L.D. What had helped him most was Natasha. She was back. Not entirely though. He was standing in the threshold of the door. Now he just needed to step inside.

A few moments later, the S.H.E.I.L.D Helicarrier floated just above the mansion. Natasha was locked away in her room, as safe as ever. Jarvis' security system was up which meant he knew when Hill would get here. He just prayed that Natasha's words of wisdom would help him get through this.

When she finally came, he made sure to open the door for her. Her expression was one of shock and a lot of it. The following conversation he knew was triumphant. Especially considering it was with Hill.

She greeted him on her way in a little too brisk," Hello Hawkeye," she nodded for the other agents to stay out. Which gave him a fair playing advantage this time," you called?"

He nodded, closing the door behind her. The winter wind would bite at his skin no longer," Actually I did. Do you know of a villain who calls himself Taskmaster?"

He waited for her reaction. Axe murder combined with shock. Not a good sign. Especially for Hill. When she finally rebutted it was almost enough to make Clint bend over," No we haven't," swallowing of pride over idiocy. Always interesting to watch on a woman," How long has he been running amuck on the streets then Hawkeye?" with a tint of blame.

Again, always amusing. It took Clint half a mind to not bend over and laugh so hard tears sprang from his eyes. However, he remembered his conversation with Natasha about giving away emotions and thought better of it. Biting back amusement, he swallowed and rejoined to her question. This would be interesting to say the least if not amusing," I don't know. However I do know this," he continued, still watching her expression," you might want to get on his trail ASAP. Tony and Hulk told me he's been after them too. And isn't that S.H.E.I.L.D's job? To capture super villains?"

He waited for a response. When he finally got it, her expression with a mixture of hate, thankfulness and fury. Mostly fury. Her fists were clenched at her sides and her small form almost looked as if it were going to explode," Thank you for letting me know Mr. Barton. I'll make sure he's locked away. Do you know where he ran off to?"

Not entirely being prepared for this part, he retold his story of how the villain had broken in. Remembering his mental note, he left out Natasha. He didn't need a rocket scientist to tell him what he needed to say and hear from Hill. The rest played out like a song. Smooth and connected. Scratch that. A dream.

Hill swallowed and once more retorted. Only this time, sounding more like a leader instead of someone taking orders. He hoped she wouldn't stay that way," We will try to track him down as soon as possible," again, she stood in the doorway with her neatly manicured hands in the doorway," Next time you Avengers decide to take on a new villain, call S.H.I.E.L.D. Got it?"

Near the end, she didn't sound as menacing as before. However, she did sound defeated. Deflated. Whatever it was called, Hawkeye didn't care. The only thing he cared about was going to bed. It was late and Clint didn't feel like watching anymore Harry Dresden.

_Maybe tomorrow, _He told himself as he went to bed. Today had been a good day. In fact, it had been more than good. It had been spectacular. Now all he had to do was open up to Natasha and he would be done. Done carrying this guilt.

Nevertheless, he knew Natasha. He knew that with Natasha, things weren't ever as they seemed.

Once he was finished undressing, he climbed into his lonely bed and closed his eyes. Attempting to rest wasn't as easy as he had first thought. Eventually, it came to him.

The next morning light from the window behind her awoke Natasha. She turned over and looked at the digital clock next to her bed. Seven am.

_Not bad, _She thought as she put her costume on for another rough day-The thought hadn't occurred to her. Not one bit. Ever since she had talked to Hawkeye about their feelings, she had actually slept.

She mentally jumped for joy as she made her way down to the kitchen. Remembering that Clint still had his body in the threshold, she hung onto the thought. Suddenly, a thought jolted her mind.

As she stopped at the gym, she listened to Clint for a moment. Hearing some serious man grunting and groaning she decided to investigate. Backing towards the gym and opening the door, she couldn't believe what she saw.

She watched as Hawkeye took out an arrow from his quiver. He aimed it at the red and white painted target, and almost missed. She continued to watch as a robot popped up.

He punched and kicked it multiple times. To no avail. It made no dent and for Clint's sake, she shot at it. Hiding behind the door again, she peered out from behind it. Not extremely so however she didn't want to make it look like she was peeping on him either.

When the robots and targets finally disappeared, he spoke aloud. Almost as if, he was speaking to someone. Which was he," Come on out Natasha. I know you're there." He didn't have to say it twice for her to come out.

She was thankful that when she approached him closer, he was wearing his regular costume. She didn't want to see him any other way. Besides, it might look bad for him. Especially considering he was married now.

"Why were you watching me?" Amost like the playful banter they had when they were partners. Amost. Now was her time to show him who was boss. She just knew how to do it. Just like old times.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms defiantly. He was playing with her. Toying. Did he really think she was buying this crap? If so, he was in for the surprise of his life," Don't play me like that Clint Barton. You know exactly why I was watching you," she continued to lecture him, now making a circle around him as if he were some helpless animal. Sometimes he acted like it," Your aim is repulsive and your attacks are weak."

Before he could say anything else, Natasha attacked him. It wasn't a full-blown attack, just a small tackle. To her at least. Not expecting it, he toppled to the ground like a domino. Sloppy work. She leaned over him with a sly grin on her face.

"That all you can do?" She pushed herself off him and yanked him up. She could almost hear him whine and almost bantered with him. Amost. She knew what he was trying to do and she knew how it would end," I've seen Jack Fury move with more speed than you."

Her taunt had worked. It was like angering a rhino. He charged right for her and she dodged out of his way. With a sly smile, she continued with her lesson.

_This'll be interesting, _She thought cracking her head and knuckles, _and easy if he keeps up his attitude. Damn he can be so childish sometimes._

"So what else do you think I need to work on Miss Perfect?" He asked with a bit of sarcasm. Putting his hands on his hips wouldn't make him any less of a frickin' dolt. He didn't need help either," you said my stance was sloppy as well."

For second, Natasha could sense something. Something that told her the old Clint was back. And here to stay. However, he wasn't all the way through the door yet. She had to first accept him and still had some material left.

She made her way towards him. Before he could back away, she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him firmly towards her. She hadn't meant to yank him but obviously, he didn't like it. When she let go she was surprised to see that he was still there. She let out a sigh. A few more seconds.

She stood next to him and got into a random stance. Her muscles felt tight from not doing it so long and for not stretching. She would condemn herself later. She concentrated right now on teaching this dolt how to make a stance.

She glanced over at him and tightened her fists. She put them in front of herself. Squeezing her legs and watching Hawkeye follow her example. Leaving the stance, she went to his side to work him with. At first, his arms seemed a little loose. So she made him bench. When she was done, she continued from there.

For a half an hour, all she did was help him with his stance and his aim. When she was done, she felt empty inside. She knew she had finished the healing process. They both had. They both had completed the journey together.

Natasha also knew that it was her time to go. She could feel it. In her bones. Her soul. Her mind. Her heart, which was newly healed and ready to complete her quest to find Fury.

When she was done, he followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed a mug of coffee," You know I hope you're nice to your team when they all get back. They didn't deserve your wrath before you know that right?" she had remembered what Clint had told her. About how he had treated his teammates. About how he had treated his missions. His life. And most importantly, his wife.

Hopefully, now they could move on. Hopefully being the key word in that sentence. Only time would tell whether they lived through this experience or not. She hoped they both did, for better or for worse.

Clint obviously remembered too because how he spoke hinted it," So where you headed to?" he asked as she finished her morning cup of coffee. She figured she wouldn't be able to have another cup as nice as this, even in the United Kingdom, so she had to make it last.

When she retorted she felt a little sad and a little glad in side," To Great Britain. Probably nowhere that Tony is. I've already searched North and South America. He's not there."

And with that, she left without another word. Clint kept to himself as he watched her go. Flipping and jumping all the way there. That was what he had loved about her. Wasn't it?

The End

**Me: So I hope you liked this! I didn't mean to put so much emphasis on Hawkeye, but I really wanted to do a pairing of them in the fic! I figured it would fit and I hope it does! I also wanted to give a shout out to the Sterling Raven, who now has her own account along with her sister Sterling-Destroyer of Galaxies. Good luck with your fics gals!**

**I'd also like to say that this fic is probably the longest one-shot I've had in a while, so I'm celebrating mentally. My longest one-shot is 28 or 29 pages long if you want to get technical.**

**Now I know some of you are thinking: Why did you make it a one-shot? Why not make it chapters so that you don't have to spend hours at the computer typing?**

**Well I'll tell you why! First, I didn't want to have to make chapters. If I made chapters, I'd have to update and I don't feel adding another story to update on my list. I've already got plenty of those. Just check out my stories when you have the time. *winks***

**Sadly, that is my only excuse to not writing a mutli-chaptered one. Besides the fact that I felt this would make a good one-shot.**

**1)-River Wood-For one of my Oc's, I had to get creative with their origin. So, I created an imaginary little Canadian town in the providence of Ontario. I wasn't too keen on names and figured it would probably be fine, although I'll look for something better as soon as I can. This is a small town and was founded in the early to mid 1800s. Almost everybody here has pretty much lived here their whole lives, with the occasional tourist or new person. The people there are very nice and kind, until you betray them or they think you're up to no good.**

**2)-Elementary-Of or relating to the simplest facts or theories of a subject. Easy; simple; unique.**

**I would like to apologize to the Misgiving Writer for not posting this sooner, just because I had a TON on my plate. And remember reviews equal love!**

**Disclaimer-I don't own the Avengers, no matter how much I wish I could! I also do own my own Oc's so please ask before you use them!**


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